


Touch My Heart, Touch My Flesh

by NightingaleSongs



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 2x05, F/M, Happy Ending, Not Canon Compliant, Reunion, bellarke hug, from enemies to friends to something more, hurt/comfort kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:39:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightingaleSongs/pseuds/NightingaleSongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My version of the Bellamy/Clarke hug in 2x05... </p>
<p>Clarke is embracing him, clutching, trying to crawl into his skin and feel his heartbeat. He is alive,  real and not a dream. He has returned from ash and death to skin and bone and life.</p>
<p> He has returned to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch My Heart, Touch My Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Hey sooo, enjoy, all us Bellarkers needs some love, hopefully next weeks finale! (Do I hope or do I hide?)
> 
> Let me know what you think, kudos, comments... you simply reading my work ... everything is really appreciated :) 
> 
> As always I don't own these amazing characters .. otherwise they would be much, much happier! (well maybe not too happy because angst :S )
> 
> All mistakes are my own!!

* * *

 

 

Clarke turns, heart stutters. _I'm dreaming again_. She looks over at Raven, shock, she sees him too. **BELLAMY!**

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bellamy feels overcome by her crushing storm of arms and curls. Arms wide, shock made form; statuesque.

Enveloped by her, heart racing, disbelief. Clarke is alive, she is here. _Hope_.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Clarke is embracing him, clutching, trying to crawl into his skin and feel his heartbeat.

He is alive, real and not a dream. He has returned from ash and death to skin and bone and life.

_He has returned to her._

 

* * *

 

 

He freezes. It slowly sinks in, then rushes; overwhelming relief. Startles him into action, arms spring shut around her waist. Eyes squeezed tight, breathing her in.

She's real, she stinks of antiseptic. He holds her tighter.

His strong arms and stunted breath return her bodies message.

_I missed you too. I was haunted by thoughts of you._

 

* * *

 

 

She so desperately wants to stay here. Wrapped in Bellamy's arms. Just one more moment of complete safety before returning to a hungry world.

She finds absolution from her guilt where she feels his strong pulse against her cheek. Here I have hope she thinks, here I have trust, strength, possibility. _Miracles_.

 

* * *

 

 

The sister he so fiercely loves speaks.

He exhales sharply, tries to play it off, chokes.

He can't believe it either, how much Clarke has become to him. How vital they have become to each other.

He trusts in the way she still clings to him that she feels the same way.

 

* * *

 

 

She supposes she has to let go at some point, a flicker of doubt, _surely he wants her to?_

Deep breath, release fingers not yet ready and limbs that were made to fit with his.

 

* * *

 

 

_She's wrong_.

He's looking at her like he never wants to let go, like she's the sun and only he and Octavia see her mirroring expression.

Only one of them understands what they're seeing. It is the woman.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Clarke takes in his familiar face, dirty, scratched, _beautiful._

Bellamy's back had become a fixture behind shut eyelids whenever her memories of the cacophony of killing played symphony with her people's dying. Flames and her final sacrificial choice play great trilogies in her mind. She didn't really have a choice, but there is a constant never-ending camera roll of images like fractures in her mind's eye until she saw him, Finn and the others in every corner of her vision as what-ifs.

She was ashamed to say she thought of him the most even over ones she had once thought of with love, this dark haired man. Her enemy turned friend.

Of his face she knew every freckle, every proud line, his smirk now replaced with awe was one curl of his lips out of sight.

 

She's been staring at him in awe herself, lost in taking him in, then she sees his eyes, always too dark, deflecting, guarded or filled with scolding fire.

He is looking at her like she is beautiful, like he sees her under all of her scratches and her scars. His eyes are filled with unbridled love.

 

_Surely he cannot love me?_   _How have I never known?_

 

* * *

  
  
The the air expands around her, she looks to Octavia who nods gravely. She knew. She always knew. _Everyone did._

 

* * *

  
  
She finally sees that look that everyone else had witnessed.  
Bellamy standing back, watching, just over her shoulder, at her back, following her golden mane and soft curves juxtaposed to her business like strides as she always looks the other way.

By her side, eyes filled with worship.

Not as if Clarke is a Goddess who is flawless and never wrong, but as if she is a woman of admirable strength, steely confidence and cunning.

Finally a fire to match his own yet always just out of his reach.

But that didn't matter, he would always follow her. _And he would always love her._

 

* * *

 

 

Surely _he_ did not want _her_? _Adonis_ , He, _Bellamy Blake_ , King of his own harem, who could have anyone he chose.

He of the inspiring speeches that knit their gang of criminals into a family willing to die for each other.

He of the sharp claws and tongue when fighting for any he called his own.

He who she left to die on the other side of that Dropship door, even if he somehow survived.

 

* * *

 

 

She wants to but... "I'm sorry".

 

He knows instantly what she means, he always does. They speak their own language and so he's surprised how she doesn't know yet.

 

"It had to be done". His voice is rough but sincere.

 

 

She searches his eyes, finds sadness, forgiveness, again... _love?_

 

Clarke takes that one step forward he never could, hesitates, blues eyes enclosed by dark lashes flit back up to his.

A question.

 

Bellamy lets her see what he had been hiding from her, from himself. All fortifications dropped, expression unguarded, vulnerable but strong, arms at his sides but slightly raised. An invitation, a question in answer to hers.

_He's ready but it's her choice._

 

* * *

 

 

She loves this man of contradictions, _she's ready too_. Clarke smiles softly and steps forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SOOOOO MUCH for reading, it means the world!!
> 
> PLz let me know what you think, I tried to be all poetic and shit like my fav works on this site but idk...
> 
> was I too heavy handed?? 
> 
> Good luck with your procrastination until Wednesday, I share your pain!!


End file.
